Lively Personalities
by Jedi Buttercup
Summary: Daniel tells Vala a story: a friendship and romance in three parts.
1. Lively Personalities

**Title**: Lively Personalities 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine, the worlds are not.

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: SG-1/P&P, sort of. Daniel and Vala discuss his visit to England. 900 words.

**Spoilers**: Stargate SG-1 through 10.6, "200"; Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice"

**Notes**: Maevebran requested SG-1/Jane Austen, Daniel-centric, with the prompt "champagne". This was as close as I could get without going straight to crack!fic.

* * *

"So how was England?" Vala asked, sprawled on the short grass of the backwater, beautiful world Landry had carefully hand-selected on the sly for Mitchell's 200th trip through the gate. She had almost-daisies in her hair from an earlier episode of flower chaining with Sam, and a dab of chocolate from the cake at the corner of her mouth; Daniel thought she looked adorable, but definitely wasn't going to say so.

"Oh, it was nice to see my cousins again," he replied, shrugging, "and I learned a lot more about what Merlin and Morgan le Fay did while they were on Earth, but..." He sighed, and took another sip from his glass of punch. "Still nothing that might point us to Merlin's weapon."

"Cousins?" Vala sat up straighter, staring at him with inquisitive eyes. "I thought you didn't have any family." She paused a moment, wincing, then hastened to add, "Still on Earth, I mean."

"They're pretty distant," he said. "And they're English, not American-- I only saw them once or twice when my parents were alive, and then not at all until I was old enough to go to college. I visited them several times when I was at Oxford, though, and spent hours lost in their private library; I should have remembered them last year when we first started looking for information on Merlin. Unfortunately, it wasn't until we actually met Morgan le Fay that I remembered the quality of their collection and thought to ask."

He took another sip of the punch, glancing up at the brilliantly blue, cloudless sky as he warmed to his topic. "The family has been in England since the Norman conquest-- that's almost a thousand years ago now. They have several reference works that include the legends of Arthur, of which Merlin and Morgan le Fay are a part, dating back centuries before Sir Thomas Malory wrote his famous 'Le Morte d'Arthur' and contaminated all of the subsequent scholarship in the field with his notions of chivalry."

"I see," Vala said vaguely. "So, this family, a thousand years in one place? They must be pretty rich, then?"

Daniel sighed at the unsubtle change of topic, and glanced back at her. The chocolate smear was gone, and she was wearing a wide, blank smile with a hint of apology in it; she had become a lot more considerate of others' feelings since his first encounter with her, but her basic, survival-driven, sharp-tongued personality was never going to change. He'd gotten used to it by now, though; like his friendship with Jack, his acquaintance with Vala was a challenge for him in ways that little else in life was.

"They're not the richest family in Britain," Daniel conceded, "but they certainly live comfortably, and they have an incredible collection of historical artefacts of all kinds, not just books. One of the matriarchs early in the nineteenth century-- almost two hundred years ago -- had a lively personality and an active interest in learning, and her husband indulged her in everything. They made frequent trips to Europe, collecting books and scrolls and pieces of history wherever they went; they added more to the family archives than anyone before or since."

"An acquisitive woman," Vala said approvingly. "Sounds like my kind of person."

Daniel thought about that idea for a moment, comparing Vala to the legendary Elizabeth Darcy, and grinned suddenly. "You know, I think you're right," he said, amused. "You would have liked her. She was smart, strongly opinionated, and notoriously witty; she took an instant dislike to her future husband the day she met him, and the first time he proposed to her she threw it back in his teeth. It was months before they met again, and by the time she realized she _did_ want him there were other obstacles in the way. But he was as stubborn as she was, and once he realized she loved him, too, there was no stopping them. From all accounts, they lived as happily as two people possibly could until the end of their days."

Vala's mood dimmed a little at that, unexpectedly. "Yes, well," she said. "I wish more of us had her kind of luck."

"Now, now," a third voice said suddenly, from behind them. "No frowns at my party, you hear? C'mon, Vala, Jackson, have a glass of this champagne."

Daniel looked up from his seated position, leaning against a large rock, to see Mitchell standing over them, three flutes of golden, bubbly liquid carefully clutched in his hands. "I didn't think we were allowed to take alcohol off world," he said as he reached up to take one.

"We aren't," Mitchell said, with a cheerful grin. "General O'Neill brought it. Said we might as well make this a multi-purpose blow-out; what with the Ori, we won't have another chance to celebrate on a grand scale for awhile." He handed the other glass to Vala, then cocked his head back in the direction of the center of the clearing where most of the personnel had congregated. "C'mon. I think Landry's about to make a toast."

Daniel watched him walk off again, fairly skipping in his exuberance, and sighed. "I think I'm getting too old for this," he said, then got carefully to his feet and held a hand out to Vala. "Shall we?"

She took his hand with a wry smile. "We shall."

--


	2. Truths Universally Acknowledged

**Title**: Truths Universally Acknowledged 

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine, the worlds are not.

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: SG-1/P&P, sort of. _Vala can't sleep; Daniel tells her a story._ 1200 words.

**Spoilers**: Stargate SG-1 through 10.8, "Memento Mori"; Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice"

**Notes**: Maevebran requested a continuation of "Lively Personalities": SG-1/Jane Austen with Daniel and Vala.

* * *

"Tell me a story," Vala said plaintively, pulling her feet up onto the chair with her and wrapping her arms around them.

She looked forlorn and vulnerable sitting there like that, with her feet bare and her dark hair flowing loose around her shoulders. The instinctive frustration that Daniel had felt at the sight of her flouncing into his office evaporated as he studied her exhausted, troubled expression; he knew that look from his own mirror, and it wasn't very difficult to guess what had been disturbing her rest.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, placing a bookmark in the text he'd been studying for later reference. He doubted he was going to get much further with it tonight.

Vala shook her head. "No," she said, studying him with dark, pensive eyes. She paused for a moment, worrying at the hem of her trousers with nervous fingertips, then sighed and spoke again. "How did you do it, Daniel?"

"Do what?" he asked, gently.

"Deal with all this..." She waved a hand in the air around her head for emphasis as she searched for an appropriate descriptor. "Amnesia nonsense."

"Which part?" he asked ruefully, remembering his initial encounter with SG-1 after returning from his first Ascension and the confusing weeks that had followed. "Not being able to remember your own name? Or-- remembering your name, but having no idea what else might still be missing?"

Vala snorted. "The latter," she said, bitterly. "Not knowing who I was was uncomfortable for me, but I had instinct to fall back on, and a very kind man who gave me a job and a place to stay while I figured out what to do with myself." She gave him a meaningful, wry glance at that. "A state of affairs which has become increasingly commonplace for me of late, it seems. But the worst part was when my memories started to return. I had no idea from one moment to the next what to believe; most of them weren't comforting in the least. And now-- I _feel_ as though it's all there, but I keep waking up from dreams of things I don't remember doing, and not all of them are from my time with Qetesh. Was it like that for you as well?"

Daniel grimaced sympathetically. At least she was being given the chance to rest while everything settled in her mind; Dr. Lam was keeping her off duty until she was sure Vala was ready to go off-world again. Daniel, on the other hand, had been thrust right back into the fight against Anubis, remembering sometimes literally on the fly how to fill the shoes of the linguist, archaeologist, and soldier he'd been before. "You have _no_ idea," he said, dryly.

"How did you do it?" she asked again, wrapping her arms more tightly around herself as she rested her chin on her knees. "How long did it take before you knew you'd remembered everything?"

"I still don't know that for sure," he said. "I still, to this day, find references in my journals to events that I don't remember happening until after I read about them. The thing is--" He stood up as she looked away, a despairing expression on her face, and scooted his stool closer to her chair.

"The thing is," he said again, earnestly, capturing her gaze with an intent expression when she looked back to track his movement, "I don't really think it matters at this point. I'm still Daniel Jackson, regardless of whether I can remember the names of all my foster parents or the gate addresses of every planet I've ever been to. Knowledge can lead you to different places, but it can't change who you fundamentally are." Even in Shifu's dream, all that the knowledge of the Goa'uld had done was to exploit and enhance the darker side of his own character.

"You really think so?" Vala said softly, hopefully, unshed tears shimmering in her blue eyes.

"I know so," Daniel said, firmly.

She took in a deep breath, then let it out in a teary laugh. "I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed," she declared, in a teasing tone of voice. "This could have been my great chance to shed my reprehensible past and become an upright and responsible member of Tau'ri society."

Daniel chuckled. "Don't tell anyone I told you this," he replied, "but I think the General's already convinced of that. You should be getting your official SGC patches as soon as you're cleared for active duty."

"Really?" Vala's eyes lit up at the assurance, and she unfolded a little, wriggling her toes on the edge of the chair. "Well, that's good to hear. I was starting to wonder what I'd have to do to be worthy."

"Just be yourself," he said, smiling.

She smiled back, and for a long moment, the silence lay comfortably between them.

"So," she finally said, brightly. "Not that this wasn't an enlightening conversation-- but that wasn't the reason I came here."

Daniel blinked for a moment, rewinding the conversation in his head. "Tell you a story?" he asked, mildly amused. "A story about what?"

She scrunched up her face a little, considering. "Hmmm. How about that ancestress of yours that you were telling me about the other day? The one you said I would have liked. I bet she never had to deal with this sort of thing-- unscrupulous former acquaintances returning to ruin her life."

"You'd be surprised," Daniel said, bemused, remembering the story of Fitzwilliam Darcy's childhood friend and the havoc he'd caused among the Darcys and Bennets as an adult. Wickham's seduction of Elizabeth's youngest sister had interrupted and very nearly derailed the tentative reacquaintance of Daniel's ancestress and her suitor.

"Really," Vala said, interestedly. "Do tell."

"Well," Daniel said, "to tell the story properly, I'd really have to start several months before that, when Elizabeth Bennet first met Fitzwilliam Darcy--" he paused as his stomach interrupted with a rumble, reminding him how long it had been since he'd last eaten, "--so how about I tell it to you over coffee and pie?"

She looked pleased at that suggestion, then narrowed her eyes as she considered it a little more. "You're not trying to use this as an excuse not to take me back to that restaurant, are you?" she asked.

"No," he said, wryly. "Don't worry, I made a new reservation for this Thursday." He hadn't intended to tell her yet-- he wasn't looking forward to a renewal of the argument over whether or not their meal out could be counted as a 'date'-- but he didn't think it prudent to let her extend the argument to meals on base as well, or he'd never get any peace.

"Good," she said, brightly, then hopped up from the chair and skipped out of the room.

Several minutes later, coffee and pie procured, Daniel wrapped his hands around his warm mug and leaned back in his chair.

"The story starts, the way I've always heard it, like this: 'It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife'..."

-x-


	3. A Faithful Narrative

**Title**: A Faithful Narrative

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine, the worlds are not.

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: SG-1/P&P. _The real problem all this time had been that she had hurt his pride_. 1700 words.

**Spoilers**: Set post-series and post-Ori; includes references from Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice.

**Notes**: For MaeveBran. Partially an answer to a certain scene in "Unending".

* * *

An unexpected voice broke the quiet of Daniel Jackson's office. "We kind of started in the middle of the story, didn't we?"

Daniel looked up calmly; for long acquaintance with Vala Mal Doran, and the similarly inimitable Jack O'Neill before her, had rendered such unanticipated interruptions of his work almost commonplace, and hardly worth objecting to.

"What story do you mean?" he asked.

Vala frowned pensively as she shut the door behind her. "_The_ story," she said. "You know, the one with the ancestress you said was my kind of person."

Concern gathered between Daniel's brows as he focused more of his attention on his teammate. Thoughtful, serious behavior was a warning sign from Vala; long years of enslavement by the Goa'uld Qetesh followed by harsh years trying to survive after the Tok'ra had freed and abandoned her had left her with a near-impenetrable grifter's facade. She never seemed to _mean_ anything, or _take_ anything, seriously-- except for those moments in which she _did_, to which Daniel had learned to pay close attention.

"All stories begin in the middle to one degree or another," he said, more to fill the empty air than from any impression that he was addressing her real concern. She'd interrupt him sooner or later to correct him, and then he could address the true heart of the matter. "In order to go back to the _real_ beginning, you'd have to start at the dawn of time. I could have started the story when Fitzwilliam Darcy first met the man who would one day rent the Netherfield estate; or when Elizabeth Bennet was born; or when her father first met the lovely but not particularly well-educated Miss Gardiner; but you would have been bored long before I got to the parts you were interested in."

She made a disgruntled sound as she dropped into a chair next to his working table, propping her elbows upon the scattered leaves of his latest research project. "Dan-iel," she said, dragging his name out several syllables beyond its design. "I'm not talking about _all_ stories, or even _that_ story exactly, and you know it. I meant _ours_."

He blinked at her, frowning a little behind his glasses. "I must be missing the connection, then."

"You would," she huffed at him. "_She_ didn't see it either, until he waved it in her face."

Mystified, Daniel finally closed the book he'd been holding and set it next to his laptop, out of range of both unwary elbows and the half-filled mug of coffee left over from his last break. "You're-- drawing parallels between our lives and the story I told you?" he hazarded, then closed his eyes in resignation. "Of course you are." Knowing Vala, she might even have thought he'd presented it as _parable_ as much as to distract her from her fears.

"Well, it only seemed natural," she said, her tone sharp with defensiveness. "Practically the first thing you told me about Elizabeth Darcy was that she was a lot like me-- and the _next_ was that she and her suitor had a very antagonistic beginning, but after facing several obstacles together ended up living 'happily ever after.' Which is a rather strange way of putting it, like all your Tau'ri idioms-- after _what_, I ask you?-- but a very appealing idea, nonetheless."

Daniel opened his eyes again, frowning at her cautiously. "Happily ever after? _That's_ what you've been after all this time? You could have fooled me." He could not quite keep a note of resentment out of his voice; though he'd admired her to one degree or another since the day he'd met her, that admiration had never been without an admixture of distrust due to her flighty behavior and obviously mixed motivations, not to mention a certainty that she'd leave him behind one day as she'd left so much else. As so many others scarred by the iron heel of the Goa'uld had left him behind them.

The corners of her mouth turned down unhappily. Vala usually looked far younger than the age he knew she must be, if she'd been Qetesh's host for any length of time, but in moments of displeasure the lines around her eyes and mouth hinted at the true depth of her experience. "And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting," she said, with a lightness betrayed by the pain in her eyes. "You see? All this time I've been thinking of myself as the Elizabeth to your Darcy, but I'd forgotten how it all started: with my being the means of ruining, perhaps forever, your chances of going to Atlantis."

The familiar words, half-quoted in such an unfamiliar situation, startled Daniel. He'd never thought of his first encounter with her in quite that way before. "Vala...."

"No, I'll never have the courage to finish if I don't say this now," she told him, smiling faintly, raising a hand in a request for forbearance. She took a deep breath, then swallowed visibly, then said: "I'm sorry."

"Why?" he couldn't help but ask; though in truth, he meant 'why now?' She'd done much over the course of their acquaintance that was worth apologizing for, without ever expressing contrition; for what could she have chosen to offer regret now?

She looked down, clasping her fingers together before her. "For turning into a Mr. Collins without meaning to," she said, quietly.

As off-balance as he was, Daniel's mouth ran on without his conscious input. "Oh, you're not anywhere near as boring as he was," he said.

Then he winced. He knew what Vala meant: that she'd been a pushy suitor, trampling over his feelings in favor of trumpeting and exaggerating her own. Which he'd taken as self-protective behavior as she'd settled into her new environment, rather than anything meant in earnest. It had been so easy to imagine what might happen if he'd taken her up on it: the rejection that would follow, if not immediately, then soon after. As soon as she grew tired of him. He'd healed, since losing Sha'uri; but not enough to bear even the thought of that sort of humiliation.

"But just as obnoxious," she replied. Then she looked up again, searching his face. "It wasn't because I was bored, though, or because it was expected of me; at least, not since returning from the Ori galaxy. Tomin-- Tomin was _my_ Collins, to be as loyal to as I could because he provided me with care and safety, but I never quite forgot the-- the _fine eyes_ that I'd left behind."

She chuckled a little and reached out to remove his glasses, then laid one hand upon his cheek.

He blinked, and wondered when he'd come around the table to sit beside her; he didn't recall moving. Reluctantly, he had to admit the parallels in the situation; when viewed at from certain angles, portions of their acquaintance did resemble pages from his ancestress' tale.

Reluctantly, because-- if he admitted _that_, he had to admit the role she'd cast him into, also.

It had never been Darcy at fault, not entirely; the woman who'd recorded the tale for posterity in her letters and family writings had later admitted to at least half the blame for the misunderstandings that had delayed their betrothal. Elizabeth Bennet had hardened her heart against the man after one clumsy encounter and never admitted, until confronted by proof she could not ignore, that she may have been wrong to do so; that she did, in fact, admire him already beneath the cloak of her expressed disdain.

Studying Vala's face as she'd studied his, he took a moment to replay the events of their acquaintance in his mind. She was strong, independent, and fiercely protective of both herself and what she deemed hers; willing to do whatever was necessary to survive and further her purpose. If those actions had sometimes run counter to what he expected or wanted-- well, he had only to ask Jack about his own actions when Ba'al had held his friend prisoner to know he was no different. She was more extroverted in her efforts to shield herself, and he more reserved, which did not quite fit the analogy she was drawing-- but her flirtatiousness and his obsession with his studies could be said to amount to the same thing.

No; all those objections could have been overlooked, he knew, if it hadn't been for one more thing. The real problem all this time had been-- that she had hurt his _pride_.

Daniel smiled at the thought, a tight, self-depreciative curve of mouth that nevertheless lit a spark of interest in Vala's eyes.

"What was that?" she asked, straightening in her chair. "What were you thinking, just now?"

"Oh, nothing," he said lightly, taking the hand still resting against his cheek in one of his own and stroking the palm gently with his thumb. "It's just-- you better not be messing with me."

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him in disbelief for a long moment before shifting into a blazing smile. "I'm not," she said. "Oh, I've never been more serious in my _life_."

Daniel basked in that smile, taking the time to consciously let go of the doubts and denials and assurances he'd used to rebuff any attempt at deepening their relationship over the last several months, and felt the brilliance of it creep in to warm the cold and empty places in his heart.

Maybe there _was_ no future for them; but then again, they might be able to build something just as amazing as his ancestors had two hundred years before. Too different on the surface to meet in peace; too alike underneath to coexist in tranquility; too volatile in combination to do anything but set the world on fire. Really, how different was that from what they'd already been doing, as two-fifths of SG-1?

Only this: that they would be far happier for it.

"So if _we're_ supposed to be Elizabeth and Darcy, who are Bingley and Jane?" Daniel asked, teasingly.

Vala laughed. "Why, it should be obvious! It's--"

He leaned forward and stopped her mouth with a kiss.

-x-


End file.
